


The Cure to Worry

by Narassi



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Not Shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narassi/pseuds/Narassi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash is too tense, Donut notices.<br/>Wash is too busy, Donut notices.<br/>Wash is too protective, Donut notices.<br/>Wash needs a break, Donut does something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cure to Worry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CerealMonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerealMonster/gifts).



> Just a little bonding moment between Donut and Wash. Not shippy. I love the dynamic between these two, that Wash is still so guilty about shooting Donut. I feel like Donut would do something about it.  
> Nobody proofreads this but me, so any mistakes are mine.  
> Enjoy!

Wash was on a mission.

Not the usual type of mission, either. This mission, for once, didn’t involve shooting guns or fighting people or saving people. No, in fact this mission was relatively simple. What was this mission?

Sit down for more than thirty seconds.

Preferably in the rec room set aside for the Reds and Blues. Preferably without any of his men seeing him get there. Preferably without being dragged off to fix who-knows-what because all four captains (plus Sarge and Carolina) were currently unavailable, spread out across the base doing various important tasks that Wash wasn’t told about. And Wash was just all too available to anyone and everyone, which was completely his fault. Not that he minded, of course. He’d made himself as available as possible to his troops so that they wouldn’t go running to Caboose when their jeep unexpectedly broke down, or to Tucker for life advice, or to Grif for anything.

Right now, though, Wash was running on two hours of sleep. He’d had a long day of training and meetings with Kimball and then he’d gotten dragged around the base by just about everyone asking for help. He wouldn’t normally run away it’s just—he’s tired. He’s really, really tired. And all he wanted to do was sit down and rest his eyes for a little while before dinner. He was so close, he could _see_ the rec room, just a few more doorways to get past—

Wash froze momentarily as Palomo’s cheery voice echoed down the hallway. Familiar tan and aqua armor came into view and Wash bolted forward and into a storage closet.

“Yeah, sure,” Palomo said, “I’ll just go and find Agent Washington. He’ll know what to do!” Wash nearly groaned aloud, and listened for Palomo’s footsteps retreating down the hallway before peeking out of the closet. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he practically sprinted the rest of the way, opening and closing the door to the rec room as quickly and quietly as he knew how before resting against it.

Wash noted that someone was in the attached kitchen (which was really just a stove, oven, microwave, sink, pantry, and small fridge crammed into a tiny space), but headed straight towards the rocking chair in the far corner of the room, out of sight of the door. He swiftly unbuckled his armor, piled it in a heap next to the chair, pulled off his helmet, and sat down.

It wasn’t all that great of a chair, really, but Wash sunk into it with a deep sigh. He pulled off his gloves, too, and rested his arms on the soft, if worn, armrests. Too tired to rock the chair, Wash simply sat there, content in the near-silence. Judging by the smell coming from the kitchen, either Donut or Doc was baking something sweet. The thought pulled the corners of his lips up into an almost-smile. He started to drift off, completely comfortable and trusting the thick walls of Armonia.

A loud, shocked gasp came from the direction of the kitchen.

In an instant, Wash was on high alert. He grabbed his knife from his suit and lunged towards the kitchen.

A loud wail sent chills up Wash’s spine. Donut. Donut was in the kitchen. He had to get there, had to save him—

“ _DONUT?_ ” Wash yelled, rounding the corner with the knife behind him just in case. Donut was on the ground, clutching at his chest, a tray of cookies discarded in the oven beside him. Wash’s body went cold and numb as the blood drained from his face, and the knife slipped from his hands to clatter on the floor behind him. “Donut, what’s wrong? What happened?!”

Wash hurried to kneel next to the smaller blonde, who still clutched his hands near his heart. Donut sniffled.

“Donut, talk to me, what happened?” Wash reached out and pulled Donut’s hands away, but there was...nothing. No blood. Not even a mark on Donut’s shirt or hands. He looked back up at Donut, whose face had gone from distressed to sympathetic. Wait. Sympathetic? “Donut?”

Donut grabbed Wash’s hands before he could pull them away. Donut shrugged a little sheepishly. “I burned the cookies,” he admitted, “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

It took a moment for Wash to process that. “Oh,” he managed, “Oh.”

Donut rubbed Wash’s forearms soothingly. “Did you think I was hurt?” The smaller blonde asked.

Wash nodded hesitantly. “You gasped, and then you cried out, and when I came in you had your hands on your chest like you were hurt,” he said.

Donut nodded as well. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that. But, gosh, how romantic!”

Wash blinked as his mind went into overdrive to comprehend the sudden change in subject and in Donut’s demeanor. “Um, what?”

Donut grinned. “I gasp dramatically,” Donut pulled one hand away to place palm up over his forehead, mimicking distress, “And you come _running_ to my side!”

Wash backed away a bit, shaking his head forcefully. “No, no! That’s not—that’s not what happened!” Donut lowered his hand to cross his arms and glare at him. “Okay, that’s exactly what happened, but—there was nothing romantic about it! Really,” Wash protested. “Please don’t go telling everyone else how romantic it was!”

Donut smiled gently at him. “Alright. I suppose you’d rather some things stay in the closet.”

Wash blinked. “Um, what?” He asked again.

Donut cocked his head to the side. “I guess you don’t want me telling everyone about some things!” Donut put his hands on his hips, “Like how you’re still so protective of me even though you didn’t hurt me all that bad!”

“Oh,” Wash reeled back for a moment. “I—oh. Yeah. I guess that’s what happened,” he admitted.

Donut patted him on the shoulder lightly. “You don’t need to be so worried, Wash,” he said, “I’m okay. I forgive you.” Wash nodded, throat suddenly dry. “Now,” Donut looked back at the cookies still in the oven, “I suppose I could give these to the lieutenants. Palomo and Bitters will eat just about anything, and I don’t think Jensen or Smith will argue about free cookies either.” Donut paused and sighed sadly. “But I was making cookies for you!”

Wash’s thought process shuddered to a halt again. He blinked. And blinked again. “I—what? For me? Why?”

Donut folded his arms again. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much work you’ve been doing on such little sleep, mister!” The smaller blonde made to stand up, so Wash scrambled to his feet and pulled Donut up with him. “Everyone has been asking for you. And I mean _everyone._ I read the other day that sugar helps you sleep, so I decided to make cookies!”

Wash’s brows crinkled together. “I’m not sure that’s true,” he started. “I won’t decline an offer of cookies, though,” he rushed to add when Donut made a face at him.

Donut _beamed_ at him. “You go on back to resting in that chair of yours,” he said, “I have time to make a fresh batch before dinner.” With that, Donut shooed him out of the kitchen. Wash picked up his knife and made his way back to his chair. After the knife had been stowed away, Wash leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes with a sigh, letting the tension seep out of him.

A while later, Wash woke up to a room full of amazingly quiet people and a cookie being held under his nose.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please leave a comment or kudos! It means a lot! =)
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr! agentfrecklelancer.tumblr.com


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